Watching Out
by CassieAndFiction
Summary: A-Rab learns about Baby John's life at home.


DISCLAIMER: You know it, I know it. I don't own West Side Story. Not even a little bit.

**Watching Out**

All the guys new that Baby John didn't have the most loving family around. He avoided spending time there as much as he could and as far as they could tell, his parent's liked it that way. That was probably why he liked being part of the Jets so much, A-Rab had thought. It was a family that wanted him around. It was a while before A-Rab really got an idea of how bad it was. A couple years ago now, Baby John had only been a Jet for about a year and A-Rab had never gone to his place before, or met his parents but he'd followed Baby John up there one day when he went to get a jacket.

"You don't got to come up," Baby John has said as they walked up to the building door, "I'll be quick."

"Nah," A-Rab replied, "It's freezing out here."

Baby John didn't say anything until they were at his door, "Just wait outside, okay."

A-Rab complied. He'd heard Baby John's parents weren't the friendliest people so he got why Baby John would want to keep things short. Though he had found it hard to believe that someone like Baby John could've been brought up but anyone at all mean. The kid didn't have a mean bone in his body. Looking back of course, it made perfect sense.

A-Rab was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of yelling from inside the apartment.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU GET UP TO WITH THOSE DELINQUENTS, AND THAT'S MORE IMPORTANT TO YOU THAN THE REPUTATION OF YOUR FAMILY?"

A-Rab was frozen, not sure what to do.

After the sound of some scuffling he heard Baby John call out, "I'm sorry, no don-." His words turned into a yell of pain, and A-Rab pulled the door open but before he could get much of a look at things, Baby John was pushing him back out and they ran down the stairs and out the building, away from the continuing yells of his father.

He obviously hadn't managed to get his jacket, but he was sporting some fresh round burns on his forearm, amongst some old ones he'd told the guys he got in an accident when he was a kid.

"Jesus, Johnny boy," A-Rab said, taking his arm, "he use a cigarette for that?"

Baby John pulled his arm out of A-Rab's grasp. "Whatever man, let's go." The casualness Baby John was trying to portray in his voice was betrayed by the fear in his eyes.

A-Rab new he should say something, or try and get the younger boy to talk at least, but he didn't. Told himself it wasn't his business. If Baby John wanted to talk about it, he would. So he followed in silence, until they met up with the rest of the Jets where they both acted as though nothing had happened.

For the next week or so, Baby John hid his arms with long sleeves everywhere he went. It was cold out so no one questioned it. After that, the healing burns blended in with the old marks on his arm that no one ever thought twice about, but that wasn't the end of it. Baby John had shown up at A-Rab's doorstep numerous times since then with a black eye or a busted lip, looking for a place to spend the night. If it was anything obvious, he wouldn't go out with the Jets the next day, and A-Rab would cover for him. More often than not it was something more easily concealed; bruised ribs, cigarette burns, things only given away but the occasional wince of pain. A-Rab's parents weren't exactly a 'Christmas special' family either, but they liked Baby John well enough, they'd let him stay over, feed him, and fortunately, thanks to A-Rab's warnings, knew not to ask why he wasn't at his own home. A-Rab had tried a few times to convince him to tell the other Jets what was happening.

"We could get him to leave you alone, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine," He once suggested, looking to Baby John lying on an old mattress on A-Rab's bedroom floor.

He never agreed, though, "That'll just make it worse," he'd reply.

"Wish you could just stay here aye, Buddy boy." A-Rab had said a couple times, but both he and Baby John new that wasn't possible, his parents could barely afford to look after one kid.

After every talk on the subject, Baby John would say, "He doesn't mean it, he's only like that when he drinks."

A-Rab eventually stopped bringing it up, and now, for Baby John's sake, his main focus was stopping the Jets from finding out. That seemed to be the thing that scared Baby John the most. A summer day about two years later brought one of many close calls.

It was too hot to play basketball, which meant they'd find entertainment wherever they could, which at that time meant a game of lazy piggy in the middle with Action and his smokes, which was causing him extreme frustration. Action was someone who made up for his lack of height with a bad temper.

"Hand 'em over if you know what's good for you," he warned A-Rab, who tossed them to Baby John, who then took to holding them high over his head, far out of Action's reach until Snowboy distracted him.

"Jees man, what is that?" he asked, walking up to Baby John, who dropped his arm almost immediately, much to Action's satisfaction.

"What?"

"That, on your stomach,"

"It's nothing."

"Come on," he went to lift Baby John's t-shirt for a closer inspection but the younger one squirmed away.

"It's nothing, Jesus, leave it!"

The forcefulness in Baby John's voice took all the Jet's by surprise, even Action who had paused halfway through lighting a cigarette, and no one stopped him as he walked to the fence, pulling out his comic book.

"What's his problem?" Snowboy asked to no one in particular before addressing the group more directly, "You guys get a look at that?"

The group replied with head shakes and a chorus of, "what'd you see."

"You heard him," A-Rab warned, "Give it a rest." Snowboy ignored him, however.

"These marks on his stomach, looked like he'd been knifed or something," Snowboy said it as a joke, and most the others laughed at the idea, but A-Rab grew nervous.

"Probably from that accident he had when he was a kid, he never wants to talk about that," Mouthpiece offered. A-Rab new there was no accident, but he had to admit that it made a good cover story.

"All the more reason to drop it," A-Rab warned once again, more forcefully than the last time, and the others subsided, continuing with less risky conversation.

But A-Rab wasn't paying much attention now, he was watching Baby John over by the fence. He had his comic book open in front of him but he didn't seem to be reading it. A-Rab found himself wondering about the marks Snowboy had seen. Baby John never took his shirt of in front of people, even A-Rab, who'd seen his face busted up a thousand different ways.

Baby John was back to himself the next day, acting as though nothing had happened as he often did, but a few nights later he was back at A-Rab's, sleeping on the uncomfortable old mattress on the floor with a graze covering the side of his face, that looked as though it'd been thrown against a brick wall.

They generally met up at the playground in the morning. They'd play basketball if it wasn't too hot, or rag on rival gangs and the local cops before heading off to Docs in the afternoon where they'd talk with Tony, who they didn't see much of since he got a job there. Occasionally they'd spend their night hiding out with a bottle of alcohol someone had swiped off their parents. Baby John didn't go out the next day. They could have easily made up a story about his face, but Baby John insisted he didn't feel like it. A-Rab took this as meaning he was in too much pain.

"Maybe he's with a girl," Ice joked when Riff asked after Baby John.

"Yeah yeah," A-Rab added, "swept her off her feet with his womanizing ways. They're probably going at it at the drive-in right now."

This was met with light laughter before Joyboy continued the conversation, "You reckon he'll ever get himself a dame?"

"Once he gets his head out of those comic books, sure," answered Riff, who had his arm around his own girl, Graziella, "Who can resist a Jet, right?"

Graziella rolled her eyes, "I'm sure it's easier than you think, Daddy-o."

Eventually they'd figure out something's up, A-Rab new that. Especially Riff, not much got past him. It was getting harder to hide the beatings, which came more frequently than before, and his increasing absences were being noticed. Some of the guys had come to the conclusion that Baby John had come down with someone sort of sickness, which as Mouthpiece pointed out, explained why he never wanted to play basketball anymore. A-Rab tried to encourage this idea.

"Yeah, but he's obviously trying to hide it, better not bring it up around him." He'd say. He knew not all the Jets were convinced, but it was better than nothing. He stilled believed it would all be easier if they all knew what was happening, but knew it'd be wrong to tell them without Baby John's say-so. It was maybe a month later that A-Rab got his wish, though not in a way he would have hoped for.

It was getting late. Some of the gets had left earlier to sneak into a movie. The rest; Riff, A-Rab, Ice, Mouthpiece and Action, had stayed behind at the playground but they'd all agreed to meet up at Doc's before closing. They were taking some of the smaller streets to avoid the cops that drove around this time of night, yelling at people for 'loitering'. Baby John hadn't come out with them today, he'd gotten into it with his dad again the previous night.

It was Ice who saw it first, A-Rab hadn't even realised they were on Baby John's street until Ice stopped them all, "What's happening there?" He'd asked, gesturing to the figure stumbling out of an apartment building A-Rab recognised as Baby John's, further up the street. The figure turned towards them, a street light revealing a face covered in blood and bruises.

"Jesus that's Baby John," Action exclaimed before they all broke into a run towards him. Before they reached him, a man appeared from the building whom A-Rab recognised immediately.

Baby John had turned at the sound of his father, causing him to trip and fall down the small set of stairs leading to the building. Baby John was clumsily trying to stand back up as his father brought the belt in his hand down upon him hard, and then again, before Ice, followed shortly by Riff and Action, reached him and pulled him back. Mouthpiece and A-Rab went to Baby John and were helping him up, lifting his arms over their shoulders. The older man broke free of the grip holding him and pulled his son back, flinging him to the steps. A loud thud told them that his head had hit the stairs hard.

"What do you thin-" Baby John's father began, but was cut short by Ice holding him back again.

"Get him outta here!" he urged the others, who didn't need to be told twice.

"Fine take him, he's yours now!" the man yelled as they ran down the street, half carrying, half dragging Baby John with them.

Mouthpiece let off a string of swear words as turned a corner, Baby John was conscious but could barely manage to keep his head up.

"What the fuck was that?" Action asked no one in particular.

"We should take him to Doc's," Riff announced as he took over from Mouthpiece to help carry Baby John. Ice followed suit and took over from A-Rab.

"Doc!" they yelled as they approached the store. The other Jets where already there, and came running out at the sound of their yells.

Questions began spurting out from everyone, but Doc just hurried them inside, "Put him down on the chair, good lads."

They got Baby John into a position that prevented him from falling off the chair, which he looked as though he would do any second.

"What happened? Who did this?" Doc asked them. As he began inspecting the youngest Jet. Before they could reply however he ordered Tony to get a couple clean clothes from the back and the first aid kit.

"It was his damn old man," said Ice.

"Ruddy piece of… oi when I get a hold of that guy…" Action cracked his knuckles intimidatingly.

"There'll be none of that now… Is this what knocked him out?" Doc asked, indicating to the cut on his head that had bled over his right eye.

"No, it was when he hit the back of his head, I think," Riff said, pulling a chair up to where Doc was inspecting Baby John as Tony returned with the supplies.

Doc ran his hand around the back of Baby John's head in search of the cause of the concussion. A sharp intake of breath from the dazed Baby John suggested he had found it. "The skin isn't broken. Just a bump."

"Bit more than a bump I'd say," Snowboy said, angrily, but Ice put a forceful hand on his shoulder, a warning to calm down.

A-Rab was silent, he was completely shocked by what had happened, and feeling completely helpless.

Doc stood up and walked over to behind the bar, "get his shirt off will you."

Baby John made to resist as Action went for his shirt, but only for a second before he went back to looking completely out of it. They manoeuvred his arms through the bloodied shirt, and pulled it over his head.

"Jesus," A-Rab almost whispered. This had taken him out of his state of shock in an instant. They all became suddenly silent, staring at Baby John. His torso resembled to A-Rab some sort of sadistic piece of art, an array of cigarette burns, old scars, new cuts and bruises. A-Rab walked around Baby John, his back was much the same. There was a large, old looking burn covering the back of his right shoulder, and what looked like marks obtained from being whipped with a belt-ranging from healed scars to fresh wounds. His entire left side was purple.

"How long has this been going on?" Doc asked with a tone of disbelieve as he returned with a bowl of water. But no one answered, the scars spoke for themselves.

A-Rab couldn't look away, he felt both shock and realization. He'd assumed this whole thing had only started a couple years ago, that it was new, even to Baby John. This must have been happening his entire life. He looked at the face of his friend. The look of confusion and bewilderment that usually encompassed Baby John's face at all times was hidden beneath the still flowing blood coming from the cut below his hairline, along with the usually handsome features disguised by a busted lip and black eye. He had never before realised how skinny his friend was. Doc was now feeling the bruised area around Baby John's ribs, making him squirm a little, and let out the occasional gasp of pain.

"You're hurting him, Doc!" A-Rab yelled, but he was ignored.

"It doesn't feel like anything's broken, but he should really see a doctor."

The mention of a doctor seemed to wake Baby John up slightly. "No, don't take me to a doctor," he mumbled, although the desperation clear in his voice. "Please don't."

"Yeah okay, kid. No doctors," Doc assured him, holding him down as he tried to move from his seat. Doc handed a cloth he'd dipped in the water to Riff, who was still sitting by them. "Clean the blood off his face, don't touch the wound though, it'll only bleed more." Doc began applying something to the wounds on his back

"You still there, Baby John?" This was answered with an indistinguishable murmur.

"You know where you are?"

Baby John murmured a reply again, but it was definitely a murmur of "Doc's", before turning slightly in his seat.

"A-Rab?" called Baby John, a little more clearly.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Don't tell the Jets," he whispered, obviously not aware of their presence, "you can't tell them." He paused, gathering strength before continuing, "They won't want me to be a Jet no more."

So that's what he was so afraid of; being abandoned by the Jets. "You'll always be a Jet, Johnny boy," A-Rab tried to assure him.

"Please don't tell 'em."

"I won't. I won't tell nobody okay," A-Rab looked up to the Jets, who all looked completely shocked and saddened by Baby John's words. He stood up, anger rising. "That man's gonna kill him one of these days. He'll fucking kill him!"

He looked back to the Jets and considered for a moment not telling them that he already knew what had been happening, but he put that thought out of his mind quickly, "I never thought it'd get this bad."

Riff stared at him, "Wait you knew?" he said, looking angry, "And you didn't say anything?"

"He wouldn't let me, I tried to get him to tell you guys."

"You coulda' told me!" Riff said, standing up.

"It wasn't my place to tell," said A-Rab, bringing himself up to full height, "What would you have done?"

Riff didn't seem to have a reply to that, but instead sat back down to help Doc, who'd just sent Tony to get some ice.

"I sure wouldn't have let the kid act like such an idiot," Action said. A more perceptive person would realise that these words of anger were just feelings of concern, disguised the only way Action knew how.

"Lay off him," Joyboy warned, with confidence he didn't usually have.

"Those marks…" Snowboy interrupted, "from that accident he had as a kid, they weren't…"

A-Rab shook his head, and they all seemed to understand.

"He's gonna be okay, aye Doc?" Big Deal asked.

"Yeah should be. But there's not much I can do for him." He put the ice Tony had gotten for him into a cloth and had Tony hold it on Baby John's black eye.

The ice seemed to wake Baby John up slightly, though he still looked as though he could pass out at any moment, but nevertheless he took the ice out of Tony's hand and held it to his eye himself, somewhat shakily.

"Perhaps you guys should go," Doc suggested, but was meant with a chorus of disagreement.

"Nah he's right," said Riff, he won't all your gawking eyes on him. Beat it."

After some further resistance most of them seemed to agree it was for the best. Some didn't look pleased but complied. A-Rab stayed behind, as did Riff and Tony, who had just taken the ice back from Baby John as his hand was beginning to droop.

Baby John slipped from his chair on to the floor, but Doc, aided by Tony, pulled him back.

"Want to lay down," Baby John mumbled.

"In a bit, alright. I'm almost done." Doc was applying bandages to his back. "Keep that ice on his eye."

Tony looked to Doc, "What are we going to do?"

Doc shook his head, "I don't know."

"Should we tell someone?"

"Who would we tell? His old man is friends with most the cops 'round here. The aint gonna listen to the word of a 'delinquent'," A-Rab almost spat out the last word.

Doc finished taping up the cut on Baby John's forehead and helped him to the floor to lie down.

Baby John let out a small yell of pain as he repositioned himself on the hard floor. He was hunching over, probably trying to hide as much of his scared body as possible.

"You got a blanket or something, Doc?" asked A-Rab.

Doc nodded a reply and went to the back room, returning moments later with an old looking blanket, "Best I got," he said, laying it over Baby John.

"He'll need a place to stay," Riff said suddenly, standing up as though leading an operation.

"He can stay at mine for a bit but you know how it is, my folks just can't afford it," said A-Rab.

"You should ask Joyboy, his parents are cool, right?" suggested Tony.

"No," said Baby John from the floor.

"What, Johnny boy?"

"I'll go home."

"You can't go home Baby John," said Riff, "the man's a maniac. It's not safe."

But Baby John didn't reply to that, just repositioned himself slightly under the worn blanket.

"He can't go back," Riff said, looking at the rest. A-Rab and Tony firmly agreed.

"We cannot make him do anything," said Doc, and thought they knew that was true, they didn't voice it.

They stayed at Doc's for a while. They'd asked Baby John if he wanted to go somewhere more comfortable, but it seemed he was fine where he was. Eventually Doc convinced the others to go home, once he'd sworn multiple times that he wouldn't leave Baby John alone, though Tony said he'd stay a little longer to help clean up. Riff and A-Rab went home silently.

It took A-Rab a long time to fall asleep that night, however he still woke up early the next morning. The events of last night attacked him like a wave of water.

"Shit!" he swore to himself, before getting ready at top speed and making his way to Doc's. The store wasn't open now, it never was this early, but A-Rab went to the door and called for Doc. He was answered by Tony however. "How is he?"

"He's gone," replied Tony.

"What you mean?"

"I fell asleep and when I woke up he was gone." Tony sounded panicked.

"Where's Doc?"

"I told him to go home a couple hours after you left. The kid looked like he's been steam rolled, I didn't think he'd be going anywhere."

"Dammit, Tony!" A-Rab knew it wasn't Tony's fault, but allowed himself to blame him anyway.

"I went looking for him, but nothing. Thought I'd wait for you guys to show."

"Okay," A-Rab began, "You stay here in case he comes back. You see any of the Jets send them out looking. Did you check his apartment?"

"No," replied Tony, "Isn't that the last place he'd be."

A-Rab rolled his eyes, not out of frustration at Tony, but frustration at Baby John, "He ALWAYS goes back. I'll go get him."

"Wait I'll go with you, there could be trouble."

But there wasn't any trouble. They found baby John sitting outside on the building steps, knees brought to his chest.

"He won't let me in," was all he said, and A-Rab helped him up.

"I'll take you to my place, yeah?" to which Baby John nodded, and allowed A-Rab to take some of his weight as they walked. Tony left to go back to the store, in case any of the others came by looking for them.

"What are you doing, buddy boy? Why would you want to go back there?"

"Its home," Baby John answered, as though it were obvious.

"Some home."

"He doesn't mea-" Baby John was cut short by A-Rab stopping and grabbing him around the shoulders.

"Jesus kid, grow up. He means it. He don't care about you and he don't love you. Look at yourself, you think that's what love looks like?"

Baby John pushed A-Rab hands off him and began walking away, though he wasn't getting far with his injuries.

"No, I'm sorry man," A-Rab said, walking next to him, draping Baby John's arm over his shoulders again. He was sorry, he hadn't meant to make Baby John feel any worse. He was only angry at the boy's father, who wasn't worthy of the forgiveness his son continued to give him. "I didn't mean that." Baby John stared pointedly at the ground as they walked.

"You really shouldn't go walking about, okay. You look like you're about to pass out."

Baby John hadn't said another word by the time they reached A-Rab's apartment. He was sure that after all this time, his parents had an idea of what Baby John's life was like at home, which is probably why they understood the look A-Rab gave them, warning them not to ask any questions as he carried Baby John to his room, and onto his bed.

"You want to just be left alone?" A-Rab asked, and when Baby John nodded, he added, "There's some, you know, _magazines_ under the bed if you get bored."

Baby John smirked at his friend, before rolling over into a pillow.

It was good to see him smile again.

A-Rab, though he felt guilty thinking about it, was glad when Baby John hadn't been allowed back inside his home. It wasn't safe there, and he was sure they'd be able to think of something. It became a moot point, however, as less than a week later, Baby John's father had come to get him. A-Rab put up a fight, but Baby John went with him willingly, so there wasn't anything to be done about it. They were back where they started, aside from the Jets now being aware.

Baby John still didn't want to talk about it with them. He became very rigid and quiet whenever it was brought up, though he did assure them it had stopped for good now. A-Rab wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, he got the feeling that Baby John wouldn't tell anybody even if it had started up again, even A-Rab. He wasn't stupid. He knew the Jets where watching out for him, and that the second they saw any sign that Baby John was being hurt again, they'd be repaying the favour to his father in no time. A-Rab just hoped that the man in question was aware of that too.


End file.
